


maybe then you'll see a different side of me

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Episode: s04e10 Heaven and Hell, Gen, On the Run, angel!Sam, angel!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 11:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Oh, great," Sam grumbles. "I'm angel radio."</i>
</p>
<p>Sam Wesson-Milton's 1-900-angel. Somehow, knowing that he's not insane is not much of a relief, especially since he's on the run from demons now. And he has a secret even he doesn't know about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	maybe then you'll see a different side of me

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel--of sorts--to [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/488607). For those who don't know: Sam's a fallen angel, Cas is the Righteous Man, Anna is the girl with the demon blood, and Dean is the angel who pulled Cas's scrawny ass from perdition.
> 
> And before you ask, yes, I kept Matchbox 20’s “Unwell” on repeat. It’s a very appropriate song for Sam in this ‘verse, don’tcha think? And in canon, too. Why aren’t there more Sam-centric fanmixes with that song?

It takes a while for Sam to get his act together, to pull himself to his feet and think up a plan. There are demons out for him, and if he just…stays here, in the church, they won’t find him. Churches are holy ground, after all. Demons can't set foot on holy ground, right? Right.

He stays there for the next few days, making sure to stay out of sight. He steals clothes, bread, water, whatever he needs to survive from stores nearest to the church. The part of him that was brought up right recoils at the very thought, but he doesn’t have a choice. And once he starts getting used to it, it doesn't bother him as much.

It’s after one of these runs, while he’s greedily devouring an energy bar, that he hears footsteps. He freezes up, scrambles to hide behind the stained glass window the church took down to fix, and peeks through the glass.

There’s a pretty red-haired woman holding a gun, and a serious-looking man brandishing a knife, walking into the room.

“Sam?” the woman calls, and his heart starts pounding. “Sam? Are you there? We’re not going to hurt you, we swear.”

_Yeah, right,_ he thinks. _How do I know you’re not sent by the asylum?_ The thought of going back, now that he knows it’s all real, makes his stomach churn.  
“I’m Anna,” she goes on, holstering his gun as the man sheathes the knife, and there’s no way he can describe the feeling that rises up within him and threatens to take him over—anger? Surprise? Relief? “This is my brother, Castiel—”

“Winchester,” he interrupts, and steps out from behind the window. “I gotta admit, you two don’t look like much, for the people the angels talk about all the time.”

He gives them a sheepish smile. He knows he doesn’t quite look his best right now—weeks in an asylum followed by three days of not shaving and surviving on water and snack foods will do that. All of a sudden, he’s far too aware of the fact that he’s wearing two-day-old clothes, and the state of his hair.

“I’m flattered,” Castiel manages to say, a little surprised.

“The angels talk about us all the time?” Anna asks.

“Pretty much,” Sam confirms, stepping forward. “I wasn’t sure if you were real before, but now…” He shrugs, then turns to Castiel. “They think you can save us, you know,” he tells him, then, to Anna, “They’re not as happy about you.”

“I can guess why,” she mutters, then asks, “When did you start hearing them?”

“Exactly?” Oh, he’d never be able to forget. “September 18th. I was reviewing some files when I heard it, clear as day. ‘ _Castiel Winchester is saved._ ’”

“That’s the day I got out of hell,” Castiel whispers. “What do you think?”

Anna shrugs. “I don’t know,” she replies.

He sighs, then turns to Sam, and okay, something about that stare kind of throws him off and makes him feel way too uncomfortable. “At least we know why the demons want you,” he remarks. “You’re valuable. You can hear everything the angels are planning, and if they have a hold of you, then they can as well.”

“Oh, great,” Sam grumbles. “I’m angel radio.” He runs a hand through his hair, curses when it gets tangled in the knots. “At least tell me if Jess is okay. Mom and Richard, too. God, they must be worried by now.”

He doesn’t miss the way Castiel and Anna glance at each other, the way some people look to their partners or friends for advice on how to say something particularly difficult, and that’s all that he needs for the ashes of his world to finally blow away.

“They’re dead,” he says, “aren’t they?”

Castiel opens his mouth, but then someone bursts in.

“You got the guy,” the woman—he’s pretty sure she’s a woman, though the spikes all over her face and the blood coming from the two mouths where her eyes should be are rather off-putting—says. “Let’s go.”

“The hell is up with her face?!” he almost shouts, backing up as Anna holds her hands up.

“It’s okay, she’s here to help,” she tells him.

“I doubt it,” Castiel mutters.

“Save it for later, Cassie,” the demon snaps. “We have to hurry.”

“Why?” he asks, and Sam just wants to scream and ask _what’s going on, what is she doing here, isn’t this holy ground?_

“Because a demon’s coming,” she tells them. “Big-timer.”

“Speaking of which, the timing’s a little too convenient,” Castiel replies, stepping forward. “You showed up just when we found him with a high-ranking demon on your trail. It’s suspicious, to say the least.”

“What makes you think I brought him here?” she counters. “You did, coming here straight from his house. We have to go. Now.”

“Cas,” Anna says, and Sam turns to look at what she’s pointing at.

The statue of the Virgin Mary that he’s always been rather impressed with is bleeding from the eyes.

“It’s too late,” the demon says, and she sounds defeated. “He’s here.”

Anna steps forward, taking him by the hand. “Come with me,” she says, and leads him to a closet.

“Seriously?” he asks.

“Yes,” she tensely answers, then opens the closet door. “Stay in there, and no matter what you do, _don’t. Move._ ”

“I can figure that out for myself, thanks,” he mutters, but steps inside anyway and finds himself engulfed by darkness. He hears the sounds of fighting in a few moments, the sound of a body hitting wood, and wonders just who did he piss off, to be hiding in a church closet while two humans face off against a powerful demon.

He’s only been in there for a few minutes when the closet door opens again, and he can’t help the scream that tears out from his throat.

“Come on, move!” the woman growls, and pulls him out of the closet as another demon and Castiel grapple, distracted.

Somewhere in the part of his mind that isn’t freaking out, Sam asks himself what the hell he’s doing, trusting a demon, but hey, he doesn’t have a choice.

—

The only time Sam has ever been out camping was when he was eight, and Mom had just married Richard. The cabin they stayed in was damp, smelled nasty and leaked everywhere, which was bad enough, but then he couldn’t read _The Lorax_ because Richard had forgotten to bring it, and they couldn’t call for pizza because Mom insisted it would ruin the whole experience. As far as Sam was concerned, the experience sucked.

Never in a million years would he think he’d spend the night in another cabin again, running for his life from demons wanting to use him as angel radio.

“Thanks,” he says to Ruby, as they enter the wooden cabin. At least it’s marginally nicer than the one he stayed in when he was eight. “For, you know, saving my ass back there.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve had to save someone’s ass,” she sighs. “So, you’re the famous Sam Wesson-Milton. Gotta admit, I was expecting someone a little shorter.”

“Mom said I shot up like a weed when I hit my growth spurt,” he replies, sitting down in one of the chairs. “It’s…weird, you know? At first I thought this whole thing was just me going nuts from all the cases I was taking on.”

Ruby raises an eyebrow as she settles into another chair. “Cases?” she asks, and he can’t help but laugh.

“I was a lawyer before I was a lunatic,” he explains. “Jess used to rag on me for taking on a lot of cases. When I heard the voices, I thought it was just the workload.” He sighs. “Now that I know differently, I wish it _was_ just the stress.”

“She your wife?” Ruby asks, and he only nods. “Found her at your house. She was…her throat was cut. Your parents, too. Demons got them first, Cas and Anna were too late, and little old me had to clean them up.”

Sam’s heart doesn’t stop, but it feels like it. Jess is gone, and so are Mom and Richard. If his life wasn’t over as soon as she discovered the notebook, or as soon as he set foot inside the behavioral center, then it is now.

Then it hits him: this isn’t his world, not anymore. It crumbled into ashes a long time ago, and what he’s in now is a different world, with sharp edges and too much gray and not enough black or white that bears only a passing resemblance to the world he once knew.

“Why me?” he asks. “I mean, I’m a defense attorney. Or I used to be. What the hell did I do for all this,” and he gestures wildly to indicate the cabin, her, and himself, “to happen to me?”

“Wish I knew,” she replies. “Hey, I gotta go for a minute, need to find Anna and Cas.”

Before he can ask her what she means, she throws her head back and screams, the gruesome face fading as black smoke oozes out of her mouth, and suddenly Ruby collapses on the floor, her face human.

She’s…surprisingly pretty, once he gets over the shock. Cold to the touch as well.

Can demons do that? Just…possess dead people? He’s honestly not sure, but he gingerly props the body up onto a seat and waits.

Moments later the black smoke comes back, engulfs the body again, and Ruby’s face as she sucks in a deep breath has him backing up again for a moment before he relaxes.

“Well,” she remarks, “at least I don’t wake up with my face in the wood.”

—

Ruby, at least, has the foresight to bring cards while they wait for Cas and Anna. Sam’s engaged in a riveting game of Go Fish that he’s pretty sure she’s cheating at when the Winchesters walk in, looking slightly worse than when he first saw them in the church.

“Glad you could make it,” Ruby says. “Got any fives?”

Two can play at that game. “Go fish,” he replies, though two of his cards are fives.

“Card games?” Anna asks.

“She’s not like other demons,” he casually says. “But I’m pretty sure she’s cheating.”

At Ruby’s narrowed eyes, Sam just smirks and says, “Lawyer, remember? And anyway, she saved my life.”

“I hear she does that,” Castiel says, looking at Ruby with a sort of quiet gratitude in his eyes. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Ruby asks, and Anna only smiles.

“For what you did for Anna,” he replies, then looks away.

Awkward, really. He can practically taste the awkwardness in the air.

“Sam,” Anna starts, but he holds up a hand.

“I know,” he tiredly says. “They’re gone.”

“I’m sorry,” she sighs. “I know it’s hard for you.”

He nods. It’s a weight on his heart, one he’s not sure he can carry now, with all that’s happening around him.

“It’s—” he starts, but suddenly something crashes into his head. Voices—angels’ voices, whispering and chattering about _him_ this time. “They’re coming,” he says.

“Back room,” Castiel says, his voice commanding and serious. It’s no surprise that Anna follows, taking Sam by the hand and leading him to the back room.

“You’ll be safe,” she promises. “We’ll do our best to make sure of it.”

“Thanks,” he tells her, and watches her leave.

There’s…something. He knows this is a dangerous situation, knows that the angels aren’t here to help, but he doesn’t know why, doesn’t know how he can help in any way. He’s breathing fast as he looks around the room—dark, damp and smelly, with a mirror and a sharp knife…

What possesses him to pick it up, he’s not sure. He’s not sure how he knows the symbol that pops into his head, nor does he know how he knows that it has to be drawn in blood, but it’s something. He can help.

He slices his palm, careful not to slice too deeply, then starts drawing the symbol on the mirror, the sounds of people fighting outside somehow fuzzy to his ears.

He’s almost finished when someone barges into the back room, and he turns to see a man. No, not a man—an angel, and a pretty one at that.

“ _Sam?_ ” the angel asks, shock written all over his face.

Sam doesn’t know why, but there’s a small part of him that’s just as shocked to see the angel here. But there’s no time, and he places his palm on the symbol and watches the angel disappear in a flash of bright light.

“Sam!” he hears Castiel shouting, running in.

“They’re gone,” he breathes, and he feels dizzy and light-headed. There’s blood on his hands, and a wound on his palm that’s still bleeding, but somehow they don’t register. “I sent them far away.”

“Do you want to tell me how?” Castiel asks.

“If I knew,” Sam says, “I’d tell you. I don’t know, it just—it popped into my head, and I couldn’t sit around and not help.” He stumbles backward, collapses onto the bed. “You guys helped me,” he says, and he’s going into shock, he knows. “I had to help you.”

_What the hell’s happening to me?_ he asks himself, as Anna and Ruby rush in and Castiel gets to work patching him up.

He’s not surprised to find he doesn’t know.


End file.
